Flight FA419
Author: NYWCgirl
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: M/M
Characters: Peter, Neal, Mozzie, Sara, El, Satchmo, P/N
Warning: Air crash and aftermath
Spoilers: Picture under the cut is a spoiler pic from the upcoming season 6
Rating: R
Genre: Slash, h/c, AU
Author's Notes: Written inspired by the pictures of Neal as a pilot in the upcoming season 6 of White Collar.
Thanks to the wonderful Papallina for beta´ing the story and for making sure, I use synonyms and the right quotation marks.
This story fills my ´Stranded/survival scenario´ on my h/c bingo card.
Word Count: ~ 6600
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.
Summary: Au where Neal is a pilot and Peter a volunteer rescue worker.
Neal gathered his gear into his pilot case and put on his uniform jacket. He had made captain on the airbus A380 about six months ago and he was still as happy as six months ago when he passed the exam and tests.
When he opened the door to the cabin, the last passengers where leaving, so he waited and said goodbye to them and then descended the stairs to the tarmac. They had just arrived at JFK, inbound from Munich and Neal was happy to be able to go home. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked around, looking at the controlled chaos of the airport. He saw five men and a woman standing next to one of the cargo doors, waiting for something, they were wearing rescue uniforms and then Neal remembered; they were waiting for the unloading of their dogs. He had noticed the dogs on his cargo manifest, when he had signed off on it. He was curious, so he walked over to the group.
“Hope you had a pleasant flight.” Neal smiled at them.
Four of the men and the woman acknowledged him, the last man was still standing with his back towards Neal. When he turned, Neal´s heart jumped. The guy was gorgeous, and in uniform, what more could you want? Well yeah, that he would be gay, which he was probably not.
´Get a grip, Caffrey´, Neal told himself, ´you are not a teenager anymore´ .
“You were our captain on this flight?”
“Yes, I was, Neal Caffrey.” Neal gave them a small courteous bow. ´Where you on a mission?”
“Well, sort of, we were on a training mission in Germany. Name´s Peter Burke, these are my colleagues Jim, BJ, Leshaun, John and last but not least Elizabeth.”
“I guess, you are waiting for your dogs?”
“How do you know we had dogs with us?” John wondered.
“I signed off on the cargo manifest and life cargo always attracts my attention.” Neal explained. “Well, I hope everything is OK and hopefully you fly with us again in the future.”
While Neal walked away to the terminal, he thought he heard Elizabeth say Ask him for a drink. But then he entered the terminal and walked over to the crew exit to go through customs. At the moment he wasn´t looking for a date with a woman, so he wasn´t interested in Elizabeth, although Peter…
Once outside the terminal building, Neal hailed a cab and told the driver the address.
An hour later, he stood on the sidewalk in front of his apartment. Home, sweet home, he smiled and quickly walked up the stairs towards the front door.
Once he inside, he put down his clothes bag and pilot case and took off his jacket and tie and poured himself the Barolo he had saved.
It was Friday night, but he was too exhausted to go out. With his current lifestyle he would never find a meaningful relationship, but on the other hand, he loved his job. Because of his job, he had seen the world, all the big art museums, met people, he wouldn´t trade it for the world.
While he was sipping his wine, he wondered about the rescue guy, what was his name again? Damn, he should have asked him out or gave his number.
Oh well, no use crying over spilled milk. He had the weekend off, which was a rare treat. On Monday he was flying to Madrid. He grabbed his phone and called Sara, one of the regular pursers on his flights, to ask her if she wanted to go out tomorrow evening, they always had a blast looking for guys together. They would meet at the Highstreet, a bar where they served the best cocktails in town.
* * *
The next morning, he did some chores around the house and had lunch with Mozzie, one of his best friends. They had known each other since their late teens. It was good to see Mozzie and he felt recharged by the time he walked back home to get ready for his date with Sara.
Neal first grabbed a quick bite to eat at a local bistro, before joining Sara at the Highstreet. She ordered them drinks and they danced, checked out men and had a great time. It was hot inside and Neal walked up to the bar to order some more drinks. He picked them up and turned around, bumping into… the rescue guy.
“I´m sorry…Oh, Hi…” Neal stammered.
“Hey, Neal right?” Peter smiled.
“Yeah, …” Neal laughed, embarrassed that he couldn´t remember this guy´s name.
“Peter… Peter Burke.” Peter saved Neal from further embarrassment.
“I wasn´t expecting you here.” Neal admitted.
“No, this isn´t exactly my thing, but Elizabeth made me come.”
“Well, same with me, Sara asked me to come.” Neal lied, ‘but what was a little white lie?’
Peter looked a little disappointed, but only for a brief moment. Neal would have missed it, if he wasn´t looking at Peter´s face.
“Want to join us?”
“Yeah, let me get Sara.”
Neal quickly explained the situation to Sara and they both walked over to where Peter and Elizabeth were standing. The women introduced themselves and started talking.
Neal danced with both Elizabeth and Sara and Peter got them some more beverages. They left the club past midnight and promised to do it again some time.
While they drove back in a cab, Sara told Neal to call Peter and ask him out on a date.
“Sara, he was there with a woman.” Neal rolled his eyes.
“Yes, and so were you. Don´t you believe Peter thinks we´re a couple, pilot and stewardess, how cliché can you get, but still. Elizabeth is not his girlfriend. Peter bats for the same team, as do you.” Neal´s eyes widened. “You sure, he is gay?” Neal hadn´t gotten an conclusive vibe from Peter.
“My best guess is that he is bi, but so are you my friend.” Sara gave him a fond smile. Neal and she had gone out and they had sex, but it was just casual, they both knew they weren´t mend to be a couple, just friends with benefits.
“Here is his number, call him, maybe you two can meet up when you get back from Europe.”
“How did you get his number?” Neal wondered.
“Oh honey, Elizabeth gave it to me.” Sara handed him a business card that said special agent Peter Burke.
Sunday morning Neal slept in and in the afternoon he painted. He turned in early as he had the early flight to Madrid.
When he arrived at the crew lounge the next morning, he smiled. Sara was talking to some colleagues, but waved at him.
“Are you my purser today?”
“Yep, I wouldn´t recommend the fish, so I ordered you mac and cheese as lunch.”
“You know your way to a man´s heart.” Neal said smiling while they walked towards the plane.
The trip went without a hitch and Neal arrived back in New York on Wednesday. He was leaving again on Friday, so he was contemplating if he would call Peter.
But his landlady June asked him if he could escort her to some charity venue, so he forgot about Peter and told her he was happy to be her plus one.
On Thursday evening, he walked down in his new Armani Tux and June was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.
“You look wonderful June, it is my honor to escort you.” Neal gave her a small bow and put his arm out for her. She let herself be escorted to the awaiting Bentley, where they were greeted by Sam, June´s driver. Neal hadn´t bothered to ask June what charity event they were attending. He was always happy to accompany her and she has pleased that he did.
When the Bentley stopped and Neal helped June exit the car, he saw that the venue was for the American Rescue Dog Association.
When they entered, Neal looked around and his eye immediately fell on Peter and his dog. Peter was in his uniform and even his dog was wearing a vest. Peter hadn´t seen him yet, as he was talking to some guests.
Neal walked along with June and they took their places on one of the main tables of the event.
A spokesman of the ARDA took the stage and told them a bit more about the charity, he kept it short, telling the guests that he would let the specialists talk. He introduced the first speaker as Peter Burke and his K9 Satchmo. Peter and Satchmo took the stage and Peter told the audience diffusely a bit more about their latest mission. It turned out that Peter was a FBI-agent and a volunteer with the ARDA.
The evening continued and Neal went to the bar to get some champagne for June and water for himself.
“Hi, are you always on duty?” Peter asked with a smirk.
“Hi, no, but I have a flight tomorrow morning to Stockholm, so…” Neal looked around.
“You didn´t call.” Peter merely stated, he didn´t sound accusatory.
“Yeah, I was away all week and I was determined to call you, but then June invited me to this venue, and, well…”
“I´m sorry, I don´t want to keep you from your date.”
There was that disappointed look again.
“No, no, June is my landlady, she just doesn´t like to attend these social events alone.”
“I see, well, when are you back from your next trip?”
“Probably Sunday. Want to meet up on Monday evening for a bite to eat?”
“Let´s meet at Pepolino. You know the place? It´s on West Broadway.”
“I will find it, no worries, navigation was one of my specialties during my training. See you at seven?”
“Looking forward to it.” Peter said smiling.
Neal walked back to June and handed her the glass of champagne.
“Who is that charming man? He is interested, you know.” June motherly whispered to Neal when she moved closer to him.
“I met him on the flight back from Munich.”
“You two would make a lovely couple.”
Neal started blushing. June was always so straight forward.
The venue was coming to an end and Neal escorted June back to the Bentley. He was looking forward to next week.
* * *
The trip to Stockholm was uneventful and Neal was a bit bored staying at the hotel. As the airline had put him up in a hotel in the city centre ‘which was rare, in these times of recession’ he went out for a walk. When he passed one of the souvenir shops, he went in and, on a whim, bought a Viking statue for Peter.
He arrived back home as planned on Sunday afternoon and went out for drinks with Mozzie.
Monday morning, he went downtown to do some shopping and around five Neal was getting a bit anxious. ‘It is just Italian food, get a grip Caffrey’, he told himself. He put on dark jeans and a light blue button down, of which Sara once said it made his eyes stand out, some comfortable docksides.
He took the subway and walked in the restaurant ten minutes early. But Peter was already seated. Peter got up when Neal walked up to their table and Peter pulled out his chair.
“I hope you like Italian.”
“Yeah, love it, have you already ordered some wine?” Neal smiled at Peter, trying to reassure him as he is looking nervous.
“No, I am not much of a wine drinker, maybe you can order for us.”
Neal called over the sommelier and asked for a Pieropan.
“It will go great with pasta and scallops.” Neal explained.
They had a wonderful meal, shared some Tiramisu and ended the meal with some Italian espresso.
When they left the restaurant, the evening was still young, so Neal asked Peter if he would like a nightcap at his place. Peter hesitated, but then agreed and both men took a cab to Neal´s apartment. When the taxi stopped on Riverside Drive, Peter looked in awe.
“You live here, what are you, a millionaire who flies for fun?”
“I wish, I rent a loft from June, you know, my landlady. I needed a place to stay and with my study loan it wasn´t easy to find anything in the city, but June gave me a change and I like living here.”
They quickly walked upstairs and Neal made them some coffee.
“Even your coffee is freaking good, you really live the life you know.”
“What do you mean?” Neal looked at Peter in surprise.
“Seeing the world, this apartment, this view, it is like drinking cappuccino in the clouds.”
“Well, if you put it like that. Oh that reminds me, I bought you something from Stockholm.”
Neal walked over to his pilot case and got the present out.
“You didn´t have to do that.” but his eyes lit up while saying it.
“Well, it reminded me of you. Here, open it.”
Peter carefully unwrapped the present and a big smile appeared on his face.
“How did you know?”
“Know what?” now it was Neal looking surprised.
“That I like Vikings.”
“I didn´t, but I´m glad you like the statue.”
“I will give it a special place in my home.” Peter promised.
And before he could over think his next actions, Peter bent over and gave Neal a quick kiss. When he stepped back, Neal could see a blush forming on his cheeks.
“Come here.” Neal grabbed one of Peter´s hands and pulled him in. He gently started making out and Peter let him. They ended the evening with a passionate kiss and the promise to see each other on Friday as they both had to work.
* * *
The next morning, Neal sent a text to Peter that he had a wonderful evening and that he was off to Amsterdam. He promised to bring some black liquorice, but Peter immediately texted back not to bother, as it was something he really didn´t like.
The flight was stressful as they had a medical emergency beyond the point of no return. But they had made it, the patient was OK and Neal was glad to be back home. He was off now for five days, so he was looking forward to some down time, maybe even spending some time with Peter.
On Thursday night Peter called to ask if it was OK to stay in. Elizabeth had a family emergency and had left her dog Victor with him. He preferred not to leave the two dogs alone in his house. Neal agreed, he hadn´t felt up to going out, but he had been looking forward to seeing Peter.
On Friday evening, Neal took one of his best bottles of wine and took the subway to Brooklyn, where he was greeted by two excited dogs.
“Come on in.” Peter shooed the dogs out the back. Neal handed him the bottle of wine.
“I hope it goes with whatever you´re making.”
“I´m making a pot roast with baked potatoes and a salad. Hope you are hungry.”
“Starving.”
Neal played with the dogs while Peter finished dinner. They ate telling some more about themselves and generally had a good time. They ended up on the couch, making out like teenagers. Finally Neal entangled himself from Peter and said he better be headed home.
They agreed that it was probably best and agreed to see each other next Wednesday for dinner and a movie.
Neal took a cab home and went to bed as a happy man.
The next day, he couldn´t resist and texted Peter to ask if he wanted to go out for coffee, but Peter had a breakthrough in a case and he had to work. Neal decided to do some painting and found himself painting Peter. He smiled; it had been a long time since he had felt this way.
On Sunday Peter texted Neal that he hurt himself and he was stiff and sore and didn´t feel like going out. Neal immediately got in a cab to Brooklyn to ensure himself that Peter was OK. Peter turned out to be fine, a little worse for wear, but essentially OK. He had been pushed down some stairs by a suspect.
Peter took some muscle relaxants and laid down on the couch with Neal sitting on the ground next to him.
“It is nice to know someone cares.” Peter whispered sleepy.
Neal kissed him gently, “Off course I care.” Neal quickly prepared an easy dinner with the ingredients in Peter´s fridge and then put Peter to bed.
“Join me.” Peter asked a bit shyly.
“Let me first walk Satchmo.”
“OK.”
By the time Neal returned, Peter was fast asleep, and Neal only hesitated a second. He slipped off his jeans and shirt and lay down next to Peter who turned towards him, even while he was asleep.
* * *
Neal woke up the next morning because of the scent of coffee. When he looked to the other side of the bed, the space was empty. He quickly got up and pulled on the robe that was on the bed.
Downstairs, Neal saw that Peter was ready to leave for work.
“You´re going into the office?” Neal looked surprised.
“Yeah, we need to file all the evidence and finish the paperwork.”
“OK, well, let me get ready, I will come with you.”
“No, no worries, take your time, just close the door when you leave.”
Neal helped himself to coffee while Peter left the house. He took his time eating breakfast and getting ready and walked Satchmo. He then left a note for Peter with a little drawing and left the house. On the note Neal had written to Peter to come over to his place on Tuesday night.
So Tuesday night at seven o´clock, Peter knocked at the door of Neal´s loft. Neal answered it wearing jeans and a T-shirt that fitted his torso and he was barefoot. Peter approved of the look and it showed on his face. Neal gave Peter a kiss and walked back to the kitchenette to finish dinner.
“Make yourself at home.” Neal called out to Peter, who had walked out on the balcony.
Neal turned off the stove and followed Peter out with two microbrews. He stepped into Peter´s personal space and let Peter pull him in. Peter´s stomach growled and Neal pulled out of the embrace laughing.
“Let´s eat.”
The Moussaka Neal made was divine, and Peter had seconds and on top of that dessert.
“I will need to hit the gym, if we keep doing this.” Peter confessed.
Neal took Peter by the hand and pulled him to the bed.
“Oh, you are bad.”
They fell asleep sometime during the night and they were woken by Neal´s telephone ringing.
“I have to take this, it´s work.” Neal walked out onto the balcony. When he walked back in, his face was neutral.
“The airline asked me to fly our CEO´s Elegance. His regular pilot called in sick, so they asked me to cover for him.” Neal´s face was neutral, but his voice quivered with excitement.
“You like flying private jets?”
“Well, she is brand new and yes, I gladly admit I love flying them from time to time. It is different from the big ones, they are feisty and have more personality. We´ll be leaving first thing in the morning and I will be back in the evening. Let´s have a bite to eat after I get back, at your place, I´ll bring take out with me.”
* * *
The next morning Neal was up bright and early and took a cab to the airport. He had himself dropped off almost next to the jet. There were perks to being captain of a private flight.
He took his pilot case and placed it inside and started his pre-flight check of the plane. When he was finished, his co-pilot had arrived and they introduced themselves. They went inside and did their instrument check and when they were almost ready, Walter Tristan entered the plane and came into the cockpit to great them.
“Have a safe flight, gentlemen.” and with that, he left and took his seat.
Neal and his co-pilot finished their checklists and asked permission to taxi to the runway. They were granted permission and Neal quickly maneuvered the plane towards the runway.
They parked at the end of the runway, contacted the tower and when they got their clearance, Neal throttled up and they were airborne within seconds.
They were about an hour into their flight, when tragedy struck. They hit a swan that was sucked into one of the engines. Neal immediately turned it off and gave a mayday with their coordinates. But unfortunately they hit more swans, one of them hitting the windshield with a loud bang.
“How many swans can there be this high up?” Neal shouted to his co-pilot.
The co-pilot and Neal did everything they could, but it was clear they were going to crash. There were no airstrips in the vicinity, so Neal kept sending distress signals and their coordinates. The co-pilot told the passengers and crew to assume brace positions. The last thing Neal heard was the mechanical voice alarm saying ´TERRAIN TERRAIN PULL UP, TERRAIN TERRAIN PULL UP.´
* * *
Peter came home after work and chilled some wine and beer for later when Neal would bring the take out, but at seven, Neal was still not there. He checked his phone again, but there were no messages or voicemails. He was starting to get worried. At eight o´clock he turned on the TV to watch the news.
´Next, Airline CEO crashes with private jet in desolate area. At the moment, there is no news about the passengers.´
Peter stared at the screen. ´What were the odds?´ Peter´s felt like the ground dropped from underneath his feet. His worry was now through the roof. ´OK, he had to keep calm´. He called Neal´s phone first, but it went straight to voicemail.
He called the airline, but they were in shutdown mode, probably to prevent journalists getting in contact with their employees.
Peter called the ARDA hotline and asked to put together a team. Within an hour four volunteers, El, Bob, John and himself with their dogs reported at the crisis center of the airline. In the crisis center, maps were laid out and people were plotting flight routes on the maps.
“What do we know?” Peter asked the crisis leader.
“Captain Caffrey gave coordinates during their descent up to the very end, so the search field is limited as we have a fairly good idea where they went down. We will airlift you and your dogs to the last coordinates we have. Be warned, it is a desolate area.”
Peter and the other rescue workers checked their gear, water and food supplies and walked to the helicopter.
* * *
Neal woke up because of the cold. He had a splitting headache, but when he tried to open his eyes, the world tilted and swirled, and all Neal could do was vomit. Luckily he was hanging on his side and he didn´t vomited on himself.
He was still strapped in his seat, and he saw the inside of the cockpit, but when he managed to turn his head to the right, there was nothing but open sky.
Neal´s breath hitched, his co-pilot was gone. He tried to take stock of his injuries as he felt blood dripping from his head, one eye was swollen shut and he felt a fierce pain in his right leg. Come to think of it, he hurt everywhere. He needed to get out of his seat. It was cold and he was only dressed in his uniform shirt, his jacket was in one of the lockers. He could see his breath forming little puffs. But he didn´t shiver, so he was glad that he wasn´t too cold.
Neal didn´t realize that he had already severe hypothermia. He tried to open his seatbelt but it wouldn´t open. He was so damn tired, but also realized that he needed shelter. So with his last strength he pulled the buckle and it opened. He fell to his left to what was left of the cockpit and on impact lost consciousness.
Neal opened his eyes and saw the cockpit wall up close and personal, realizing that he was resting on his side on what was left of the compartment. He tried to get up, but he was stiff and his leg hurt and he could feel blood on his face. He finally made it to his feet and staggered into the woods in search of the rest of the plane. He wanted to call out but there was only a croak coming out of his mouth. He was cold and tired and needed to find a place to rest and … he just keeled over and welcomed the darkness.
* * *
When the rescue workers arrived at the side, the devastation was horrendous. The plane was ripped apart. They immediately could confirm two death bodies; they were still strapped in their seats. But the cockpit was gone with apart of the fuselage, and no sign of the pilots. It was hard to think rationally and make a plan, but they agreed on spreading out each in a different direction.
* * *
Neal opened his eyes and looked around disoriented. ´Why was he in the woods?´ He tried to get up and after a few attempts he got to his feet and started walking.
Suddenly he stopped. There was a part of a cockpit in front of him. There had been a crash. He staggered towards the wreckage and there was no one in the cockpit but then he saw a body in a seat. He stumbled over and checked the person. There was a faint pulse but he was unconscious.
If only his head would stop hurting so much, he almost couldn´t think. He looked around and noticed a red cross on one of the lockers, so he staggered over and opening the locker, finding a first aid kit and some blankets.
He placed them over the man and tried to rouse him, but he was feeling fainter by the minute and finally had to sit down. He was hot and dizzy. ´Why would he by dizzy? What had happened?´ He looked around and found a bottle of water and drank some, but he only managed to make himself nauseous and heaved everything back.
He felt exposed and knew he had to do something about that. He looked at the man and instinctively knew he had to keep him warm, so he stumbled around and put all the fabric he could find on the emergency blankets. When he was done, he was hot and took off his shirt and tie. ´What was he doing here? Oh yeah, he needed to find shelter´, so he stumbled to his feet and went looking for one.
He found some trees that had fallen down and crawled underneath them and fell asleep.
* * *
Peter had walked with Satchmo in the northern direction. They were still on the trail, because now and then they would find debris. Darkness had set in and Peter had to walk on compass, the headlight he was wearing gave him about a hundred feet light range and it would last sixteen hours, so he was OK, continuing in the dark.
When the debris got bigger, Peter shouted “Neal, NEAL!”
Satchmo got more anxious, so Peter picked up the pace. He reported to the crisis leader that he thought he was on the right track and gave his coordinates. Satchmo started barking, which meant that someone was still alive, as Satchmo was a trained SAR dog, he would search for living victims, in contrast to a cadaver dog.
Suddenly, the cockpit came into Peter´s field of vision. He reported his findings and quickly walked over to the victim that was sitting in his chair, pilled with clots, blankets and other stuff. Peter looked around and saw a lot of blood, so someone was hurt and by the look of it, badly.
Again, Peter reported to the crisis center, one confirmed living victim and one assumed. He checked the man over and he was definitely alive, the hypothermia was not too bad. So that made finding the two pilots his next priority. He called Satchmo over and gave a scent article, Neal´s sleeping T-shirt, which he had brought with him. Within minutes Satchmo was happily barking and Peter had to look twice to find Neal. He was sort of buried under a fallen tree. He had taken of his shirt and socks. He had managed to squeeze himself in what seemed a tiny space under the tree.
He was unconscious and his heart rate and breathing almost undetectable. Peter could only reach one conclusion, Neal was suffering from severe hypothermia. He knew that Neal could only survive if they could warm him up internally. But for the moment he placed an emergency blanket on the exposed parts of Neal. He then told Satchmo to lay next to Neal so he wouldn´t lose anymore body heat than he already had.
Peter could already hear a helicopter coming closer, so help was on its way. Once the rescue workers touched down, everything went quickly, the other man was loaded in the helicopter and was airlifted to the nearest hospital, while paramedics and Peter tried to extract Neal from is hiding place without jostling him too much. The paramedics were surprised that Neal had sort of dug himself under the tree, but Peter explained that it was typical hide and die syndrome. Neal probably hadn´t done it on purpose. Hell, he probably wasn´t even lucid when he had done it. It hurt Peter to think of Neal in such a fragile state.
They had to extract Neal without jarring him too much, so they first removed the tree log and then carefully lifted Neal on top of a gurney, curled into himself as he was. Somewhere during the extraction, Neal had regained consciousness, he had opened his eyes, but he wasn´t really tracking what was happening. He wasn´t responsive and his eyes stared into nothing.
Peter gently tried to get Neal to come back into awareness and his voice must have triggered something, because he started slurring words, but nothing coherent.
“Pter”, it was barely audible. Suddenly, Peter had to withhold all his tears and remind himself that he was a rescue worker and not a friend of Neal, hey had to get Neal to safety first.
Once they had Neal on the gurney, the paramedics started warmed IV´s and looked for injuries. Neal had several deep lacerations, the most troublesome was the one on the side of his head. Before Peter had time to realize what was going on, they had reached the helicopter that was going to medevac Neal to the nearest trauma center.
Peter wanted to go with him, but knew it was impossible, as he had to tend to Satchmo, so he settle with checking over his dog to make sure he hadn´t injured himself walking through the wreckage and the debris.
“Good boy, Satchmo, you found Neal.” Peter smiled as Satchmo would be able to pick up on his anxiety. He grabbed a dog snack from of the bag on his belt and fed it to Satchmo. Hopefully the doctors would do a swell a job as Satchmo had. Peter knew from experience that hypothermia victims could go either way.
An hour later, all rescue personnel was transported from the crash site and the investigators and coroners started their work.
Peter left Satchmo with Elizabeth, he trusted her to take care of the dog while he would go to the hospital. As Neal had been in critical condition, he needed a level 1 trauma center, the closest being Strong Memorial Hospital in Rochester.
When Peter arrived at the hospital, he was informed that Neal was in surgery. They were trying to warm him internally by putting him on bypass. The nurse told Peter to get some rest as Neal wasn´t going anywhere, anytime soon. He unwaveringly told her he would wait in the waiting room.
After three hours and six cups of awful coffee late, the nurse took pity on him and told him she would take him to see Neal, but just for a couple of minutes. Peter could have kissed her, but refrained himself. He followed her into one of the trauma rooms and stopped abruptly at the threshold.
Neal was so pale, that he was almost translucent. They had placed him on a ventilator and he was placed under heating blankets. Peter had seen his fair share of traumas, but never to someone he cared for, hell, loved.
He gently touched Neal´s hand under the blanket and then was told he had to step out again. They were taking care of Neal.
And that was the moment Neal chose to go into cardiac arrest. A medical team scrambled in and started working on Neal. Peter was pulled out of the room. He paced the waiting room for the next two hours, before a nurse came out to tell him Neal was doing OK under the circumstances.
During the morning shift, a nurse woke Peter who had fallen asleep in the waiting room, and told him that they had placed Neal into the critical care unit. They had his body temperature up and had set, stitched and operated on everything they could and now they needed to wait when Neal would wake up.
Peter asked if he could see Neal and he was allowed in to see for himself that Neal was still alive. Peter´s heart dropped when he entered the room. Neal looked even worse than a couple of hours ago. They had shaven a part of his head to sew the deep laceration to the side of his head. His arm was in a cast and his leg in traction. What wasn´t in a cast or in bandages, was covered with bruises and scrapes. It was eerie to see Neal´s chest move because of the ventilator. There were numerous tubes going in and out of Neal. And he was so still, it stood in stark contrast with the Neal had he learned to know, who was always full of life and moving around.
The nurse gently touched Peter to get him out of his thoughts. “You should talk to him, he will probably hear you, even if he is not able to respond.”
Peter gingerly sat down next to him and placed his hand on Neal´s hand, he felt so cold. When the nurse left, after she checked his vitals, Peter placed a kiss on Neal´s forehead.
* * *
It took Neal two days to show signs of consciousness. Neal wasn´t awake but he grimaced when he was in pain. Sometimes he reacted distressed but would calm down when Peter spoke or touched him. That last response ensured that Peter was allowed to stay in his room. The nurses even brought in a cot for Peter.
That night Neal was particularly distressed, he tossed in his bed and several times he tried to pull out IV´s or the ventilator. The nurses and Peter had prevented it up till now, but the nurses decided that it was for the best to limit Neal´s movements by using soft wrist restrains, before he hurt himself. The medical staff didn´t want to up Neal´s sedation in the hope that he would wake and they could assess his head injury.
Peter held Neal´s hand and gently placed a hand on his chest. Neal´s heart rate slowed down and he finally settled down all together.
It was somewhere in the early morning when Neal started to cough. Peter pushed the nurse call button, and an orderly rushed in.
“It´s OK, he is trying to breathe over the ventilator, he is probably rousing.”
“Neal, can you open your eyes? Neal, Peter here tells me you have the bluest eyes. Can you show them for me?” The nurse cajoled.
Peter could see that Neal was listening to the voice, so he joined in. “Come on Neal, open them for us.”
But Neal didn´t respond, so the nurse told Peter that he would wake up when he was ready.
The rest of the day existed out of checkups, IV bag changes and more medical stuff. Peter napped on and off during the day, as he almost didn´t sleep last night. Later in the afternoon, Peter woke, he didn´t know what had stirred him, so he looked around and out of habit, he looked over to the monitors and noticed that Neal´s heart rate had increased. Peter only then looked at Neal and his heart jumped. Neal had his eyes open.
“Neal, can you hear me?” Peter pushed the nurse call button and jumped up.
Neal looked fearful when he realized he couldn´t breathe, luckily the nurse stepped in and attracted Neal´s attention and explained what was going on. Neal calmed down but not enough, so Peter tried talking to him. Neal´s eyes were glued to Peter ´s face and Peter pressed a kiss to Neal´s cheek. That and the sedation the nurse pushed helped Neal relax. He wasn´t completely knocked out, but enough not to care.
After a couple of hours, the doctors were discussing taking Neal of the ventilator.
* * *
The next morning, Neal woke Peter by trying to say his name, it was nothing more than a croak, but it sounded like the voice of an angel to Peter.
“Wh´t h´ed?” Neal whispered.
“Let me first get you some ice chips, and lip balm for your chapped lips.”
He fed Neal some ice chips while slowly telling Neal that he was in a plane crash. Peter kept it all in general terms, not revealing details.
Neal couldn´t remember the accident and the doctors had instructed Peter does not elaborate, at least for the time being. He didn´t need to lie, but he also needed to let Neal get his memory back in his own tempo.
* * *
Neal was released from the hospital ten days later. As his leg was badly broken, he needed to stay off his feet, until they could operate again, so Peter had suggested that Neal would stay at his place as there were lesser stairs to conquer. And that way, Peter could take care of Neal. Neal didn´t want to impose on Peter but he also knew that he needed help, so he reluctantly agreed.
Epilogue.
Eight months later, Neal was still working with physical therapists to get rid of the weakness in his left hand. He started flying again two weeks ago, but the left handed weakness would be a problem in passing the FAA physicals. Neal had been working hard at his recovery ever since he was released from the hospital as he was determined to fly again.
It turned out that the man Neal saved was Walter Tristan. He had been informed that he owed his life to his pilot. Walter had visited Neal on several occasions and made sure that Neal had the best physical therapists. He had also promised Neal a job as his own private pilot or any other job Neal wished for in the company.
But as Neal lived to be a pilot, he was determined to do anything to get back in that left seat of a plane.
Neal and Peter´s relationship had deepened during the highs and lows of his recovery. And once Neal was physical well enough to move back to his apartment, Peter had asked him to stay.
And he did.
Fandom: White Collar
Pairing: M/M
Characters: Peter, Neal, Mozzie, Sara, El, Satchmo, P/N
Warning: Air crash and aftermath
Spoilers: Picture under the cut is a spoiler pic from the upcoming season 6
Rating: R
Genre: Slash, h/c, AU
Author's Notes: Written inspired by the pictures of Neal as a pilot in the upcoming season 6 of White Collar.
Thanks to the wonderful Papallina for beta´ing the story and for making sure, I use synonyms and the right quotation marks.
This story fills my ´Stranded/survival scenario´ on my h/c bingo card.
Word Count: ~ 6600
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.
Summary: Au where Neal is a pilot and Peter a volunteer rescue worker.
Neal gathered his gear into his pilot case and put on his uniform jacket. He had made captain on the airbus A380 about six months ago and he was still as happy as six months ago when he passed the exam and tests.
When he opened the door to the cabin, the last passengers where leaving, so he waited and said goodbye to them and then descended the stairs to the tarmac. They had just arrived at JFK, inbound from Munich and Neal was happy to be able to go home. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked around, looking at the controlled chaos of the airport. He saw five men and a woman standing next to one of the cargo doors, waiting for something, they were wearing rescue uniforms and then Neal remembered; they were waiting for the unloading of their dogs. He had noticed the dogs on his cargo manifest, when he had signed off on it. He was curious, so he walked over to the group.
“Hope you had a pleasant flight.” Neal smiled at them.
Four of the men and the woman acknowledged him, the last man was still standing with his back towards Neal. When he turned, Neal´s heart jumped. The guy was gorgeous, and in uniform, what more could you want? Well yeah, that he would be gay, which he was probably not.
´Get a grip, Caffrey´, Neal told himself, ´you are not a teenager anymore´ .
“You were our captain on this flight?”
“Yes, I was, Neal Caffrey.” Neal gave them a small courteous bow. ´Where you on a mission?”
“Well, sort of, we were on a training mission in Germany. Name´s Peter Burke, these are my colleagues Jim, BJ, Leshaun, John and last but not least Elizabeth.”
“I guess, you are waiting for your dogs?”
“How do you know we had dogs with us?” John wondered.
“I signed off on the cargo manifest and life cargo always attracts my attention.” Neal explained. “Well, I hope everything is OK and hopefully you fly with us again in the future.”
While Neal walked away to the terminal, he thought he heard Elizabeth say Ask him for a drink. But then he entered the terminal and walked over to the crew exit to go through customs. At the moment he wasn´t looking for a date with a woman, so he wasn´t interested in Elizabeth, although Peter…
Once outside the terminal building, Neal hailed a cab and told the driver the address.
An hour later, he stood on the sidewalk in front of his apartment. Home, sweet home, he smiled and quickly walked up the stairs towards the front door.
Once he inside, he put down his clothes bag and pilot case and took off his jacket and tie and poured himself the Barolo he had saved.
It was Friday night, but he was too exhausted to go out. With his current lifestyle he would never find a meaningful relationship, but on the other hand, he loved his job. Because of his job, he had seen the world, all the big art museums, met people, he wouldn´t trade it for the world.
While he was sipping his wine, he wondered about the rescue guy, what was his name again? Damn, he should have asked him out or gave his number.
Oh well, no use crying over spilled milk. He had the weekend off, which was a rare treat. On Monday he was flying to Madrid. He grabbed his phone and called Sara, one of the regular pursers on his flights, to ask her if she wanted to go out tomorrow evening, they always had a blast looking for guys together. They would meet at the Highstreet, a bar where they served the best cocktails in town.
* * *
The next morning, he did some chores around the house and had lunch with Mozzie, one of his best friends. They had known each other since their late teens. It was good to see Mozzie and he felt recharged by the time he walked back home to get ready for his date with Sara.
Neal first grabbed a quick bite to eat at a local bistro, before joining Sara at the Highstreet. She ordered them drinks and they danced, checked out men and had a great time. It was hot inside and Neal walked up to the bar to order some more drinks. He picked them up and turned around, bumping into… the rescue guy.
“I´m sorry…Oh, Hi…” Neal stammered.
“Hey, Neal right?” Peter smiled.
“Yeah, …” Neal laughed, embarrassed that he couldn´t remember this guy´s name.
“Peter… Peter Burke.” Peter saved Neal from further embarrassment.
“I wasn´t expecting you here.” Neal admitted.
“No, this isn´t exactly my thing, but Elizabeth made me come.”
“Well, same with me, Sara asked me to come.” Neal lied, ‘but what was a little white lie?’
Peter looked a little disappointed, but only for a brief moment. Neal would have missed it, if he wasn´t looking at Peter´s face.
“Want to join us?”
“Yeah, let me get Sara.”
Neal quickly explained the situation to Sara and they both walked over to where Peter and Elizabeth were standing. The women introduced themselves and started talking.
Neal danced with both Elizabeth and Sara and Peter got them some more beverages. They left the club past midnight and promised to do it again some time.
While they drove back in a cab, Sara told Neal to call Peter and ask him out on a date.
“Sara, he was there with a woman.” Neal rolled his eyes.
“Yes, and so were you. Don´t you believe Peter thinks we´re a couple, pilot and stewardess, how cliché can you get, but still. Elizabeth is not his girlfriend. Peter bats for the same team, as do you.” Neal´s eyes widened. “You sure, he is gay?” Neal hadn´t gotten an conclusive vibe from Peter.
“My best guess is that he is bi, but so are you my friend.” Sara gave him a fond smile. Neal and she had gone out and they had sex, but it was just casual, they both knew they weren´t mend to be a couple, just friends with benefits.
“Here is his number, call him, maybe you two can meet up when you get back from Europe.”
“How did you get his number?” Neal wondered.
“Oh honey, Elizabeth gave it to me.” Sara handed him a business card that said special agent Peter Burke.
Sunday morning Neal slept in and in the afternoon he painted. He turned in early as he had the early flight to Madrid.
When he arrived at the crew lounge the next morning, he smiled. Sara was talking to some colleagues, but waved at him.
“Are you my purser today?”
“Yep, I wouldn´t recommend the fish, so I ordered you mac and cheese as lunch.”
“You know your way to a man´s heart.” Neal said smiling while they walked towards the plane.
The trip went without a hitch and Neal arrived back in New York on Wednesday. He was leaving again on Friday, so he was contemplating if he would call Peter.
But his landlady June asked him if he could escort her to some charity venue, so he forgot about Peter and told her he was happy to be her plus one.
On Thursday evening, he walked down in his new Armani Tux and June was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.
“You look wonderful June, it is my honor to escort you.” Neal gave her a small bow and put his arm out for her. She let herself be escorted to the awaiting Bentley, where they were greeted by Sam, June´s driver. Neal hadn´t bothered to ask June what charity event they were attending. He was always happy to accompany her and she has pleased that he did.
When the Bentley stopped and Neal helped June exit the car, he saw that the venue was for the American Rescue Dog Association.
When they entered, Neal looked around and his eye immediately fell on Peter and his dog. Peter was in his uniform and even his dog was wearing a vest. Peter hadn´t seen him yet, as he was talking to some guests.
Neal walked along with June and they took their places on one of the main tables of the event.
A spokesman of the ARDA took the stage and told them a bit more about the charity, he kept it short, telling the guests that he would let the specialists talk. He introduced the first speaker as Peter Burke and his K9 Satchmo. Peter and Satchmo took the stage and Peter told the audience diffusely a bit more about their latest mission. It turned out that Peter was a FBI-agent and a volunteer with the ARDA.
The evening continued and Neal went to the bar to get some champagne for June and water for himself.
“Hi, are you always on duty?” Peter asked with a smirk.
“Hi, no, but I have a flight tomorrow morning to Stockholm, so…” Neal looked around.
“You didn´t call.” Peter merely stated, he didn´t sound accusatory.
“Yeah, I was away all week and I was determined to call you, but then June invited me to this venue, and, well…”
“I´m sorry, I don´t want to keep you from your date.”
There was that disappointed look again.
“No, no, June is my landlady, she just doesn´t like to attend these social events alone.”
“I see, well, when are you back from your next trip?”
“Probably Sunday. Want to meet up on Monday evening for a bite to eat?”
“Let´s meet at Pepolino. You know the place? It´s on West Broadway.”
“I will find it, no worries, navigation was one of my specialties during my training. See you at seven?”
“Looking forward to it.” Peter said smiling.
Neal walked back to June and handed her the glass of champagne.
“Who is that charming man? He is interested, you know.” June motherly whispered to Neal when she moved closer to him.
“I met him on the flight back from Munich.”
“You two would make a lovely couple.”
Neal started blushing. June was always so straight forward.
The venue was coming to an end and Neal escorted June back to the Bentley. He was looking forward to next week.
* * *
The trip to Stockholm was uneventful and Neal was a bit bored staying at the hotel. As the airline had put him up in a hotel in the city centre ‘which was rare, in these times of recession’ he went out for a walk. When he passed one of the souvenir shops, he went in and, on a whim, bought a Viking statue for Peter.
He arrived back home as planned on Sunday afternoon and went out for drinks with Mozzie.
Monday morning, he went downtown to do some shopping and around five Neal was getting a bit anxious. ‘It is just Italian food, get a grip Caffrey’, he told himself. He put on dark jeans and a light blue button down, of which Sara once said it made his eyes stand out, some comfortable docksides.
He took the subway and walked in the restaurant ten minutes early. But Peter was already seated. Peter got up when Neal walked up to their table and Peter pulled out his chair.
“I hope you like Italian.”
“Yeah, love it, have you already ordered some wine?” Neal smiled at Peter, trying to reassure him as he is looking nervous.
“No, I am not much of a wine drinker, maybe you can order for us.”
Neal called over the sommelier and asked for a Pieropan.
“It will go great with pasta and scallops.” Neal explained.
They had a wonderful meal, shared some Tiramisu and ended the meal with some Italian espresso.
When they left the restaurant, the evening was still young, so Neal asked Peter if he would like a nightcap at his place. Peter hesitated, but then agreed and both men took a cab to Neal´s apartment. When the taxi stopped on Riverside Drive, Peter looked in awe.
“You live here, what are you, a millionaire who flies for fun?”
“I wish, I rent a loft from June, you know, my landlady. I needed a place to stay and with my study loan it wasn´t easy to find anything in the city, but June gave me a change and I like living here.”
They quickly walked upstairs and Neal made them some coffee.
“Even your coffee is freaking good, you really live the life you know.”
“What do you mean?” Neal looked at Peter in surprise.
“Seeing the world, this apartment, this view, it is like drinking cappuccino in the clouds.”
“Well, if you put it like that. Oh that reminds me, I bought you something from Stockholm.”
Neal walked over to his pilot case and got the present out.
“You didn´t have to do that.” but his eyes lit up while saying it.
“Well, it reminded me of you. Here, open it.”
Peter carefully unwrapped the present and a big smile appeared on his face.
“How did you know?”
“Know what?” now it was Neal looking surprised.
“That I like Vikings.”
“I didn´t, but I´m glad you like the statue.”
“I will give it a special place in my home.” Peter promised.
And before he could over think his next actions, Peter bent over and gave Neal a quick kiss. When he stepped back, Neal could see a blush forming on his cheeks.
“Come here.” Neal grabbed one of Peter´s hands and pulled him in. He gently started making out and Peter let him. They ended the evening with a passionate kiss and the promise to see each other on Friday as they both had to work.
* * *
The next morning, Neal sent a text to Peter that he had a wonderful evening and that he was off to Amsterdam. He promised to bring some black liquorice, but Peter immediately texted back not to bother, as it was something he really didn´t like.
The flight was stressful as they had a medical emergency beyond the point of no return. But they had made it, the patient was OK and Neal was glad to be back home. He was off now for five days, so he was looking forward to some down time, maybe even spending some time with Peter.
On Thursday night Peter called to ask if it was OK to stay in. Elizabeth had a family emergency and had left her dog Victor with him. He preferred not to leave the two dogs alone in his house. Neal agreed, he hadn´t felt up to going out, but he had been looking forward to seeing Peter.
On Friday evening, Neal took one of his best bottles of wine and took the subway to Brooklyn, where he was greeted by two excited dogs.
“Come on in.” Peter shooed the dogs out the back. Neal handed him the bottle of wine.
“I hope it goes with whatever you´re making.”
“I´m making a pot roast with baked potatoes and a salad. Hope you are hungry.”
“Starving.”
Neal played with the dogs while Peter finished dinner. They ate telling some more about themselves and generally had a good time. They ended up on the couch, making out like teenagers. Finally Neal entangled himself from Peter and said he better be headed home.
They agreed that it was probably best and agreed to see each other next Wednesday for dinner and a movie.
Neal took a cab home and went to bed as a happy man.
The next day, he couldn´t resist and texted Peter to ask if he wanted to go out for coffee, but Peter had a breakthrough in a case and he had to work. Neal decided to do some painting and found himself painting Peter. He smiled; it had been a long time since he had felt this way.
On Sunday Peter texted Neal that he hurt himself and he was stiff and sore and didn´t feel like going out. Neal immediately got in a cab to Brooklyn to ensure himself that Peter was OK. Peter turned out to be fine, a little worse for wear, but essentially OK. He had been pushed down some stairs by a suspect.
Peter took some muscle relaxants and laid down on the couch with Neal sitting on the ground next to him.
“It is nice to know someone cares.” Peter whispered sleepy.
Neal kissed him gently, “Off course I care.” Neal quickly prepared an easy dinner with the ingredients in Peter´s fridge and then put Peter to bed.
“Join me.” Peter asked a bit shyly.
“Let me first walk Satchmo.”
“OK.”
By the time Neal returned, Peter was fast asleep, and Neal only hesitated a second. He slipped off his jeans and shirt and lay down next to Peter who turned towards him, even while he was asleep.
* * *
Neal woke up the next morning because of the scent of coffee. When he looked to the other side of the bed, the space was empty. He quickly got up and pulled on the robe that was on the bed.
Downstairs, Neal saw that Peter was ready to leave for work.
“You´re going into the office?” Neal looked surprised.
“Yeah, we need to file all the evidence and finish the paperwork.”
“OK, well, let me get ready, I will come with you.”
“No, no worries, take your time, just close the door when you leave.”
Neal helped himself to coffee while Peter left the house. He took his time eating breakfast and getting ready and walked Satchmo. He then left a note for Peter with a little drawing and left the house. On the note Neal had written to Peter to come over to his place on Tuesday night.
So Tuesday night at seven o´clock, Peter knocked at the door of Neal´s loft. Neal answered it wearing jeans and a T-shirt that fitted his torso and he was barefoot. Peter approved of the look and it showed on his face. Neal gave Peter a kiss and walked back to the kitchenette to finish dinner.
“Make yourself at home.” Neal called out to Peter, who had walked out on the balcony.
Neal turned off the stove and followed Peter out with two microbrews. He stepped into Peter´s personal space and let Peter pull him in. Peter´s stomach growled and Neal pulled out of the embrace laughing.
“Let´s eat.”
The Moussaka Neal made was divine, and Peter had seconds and on top of that dessert.
“I will need to hit the gym, if we keep doing this.” Peter confessed.
Neal took Peter by the hand and pulled him to the bed.
“Oh, you are bad.”
They fell asleep sometime during the night and they were woken by Neal´s telephone ringing.
“I have to take this, it´s work.” Neal walked out onto the balcony. When he walked back in, his face was neutral.
“The airline asked me to fly our CEO´s Elegance. His regular pilot called in sick, so they asked me to cover for him.” Neal´s face was neutral, but his voice quivered with excitement.
“You like flying private jets?”
“Well, she is brand new and yes, I gladly admit I love flying them from time to time. It is different from the big ones, they are feisty and have more personality. We´ll be leaving first thing in the morning and I will be back in the evening. Let´s have a bite to eat after I get back, at your place, I´ll bring take out with me.”
* * *
The next morning Neal was up bright and early and took a cab to the airport. He had himself dropped off almost next to the jet. There were perks to being captain of a private flight.
He took his pilot case and placed it inside and started his pre-flight check of the plane. When he was finished, his co-pilot had arrived and they introduced themselves. They went inside and did their instrument check and when they were almost ready, Walter Tristan entered the plane and came into the cockpit to great them.
“Have a safe flight, gentlemen.” and with that, he left and took his seat.
Neal and his co-pilot finished their checklists and asked permission to taxi to the runway. They were granted permission and Neal quickly maneuvered the plane towards the runway.
They parked at the end of the runway, contacted the tower and when they got their clearance, Neal throttled up and they were airborne within seconds.
They were about an hour into their flight, when tragedy struck. They hit a swan that was sucked into one of the engines. Neal immediately turned it off and gave a mayday with their coordinates. But unfortunately they hit more swans, one of them hitting the windshield with a loud bang.
“How many swans can there be this high up?” Neal shouted to his co-pilot.
The co-pilot and Neal did everything they could, but it was clear they were going to crash. There were no airstrips in the vicinity, so Neal kept sending distress signals and their coordinates. The co-pilot told the passengers and crew to assume brace positions. The last thing Neal heard was the mechanical voice alarm saying ´TERRAIN TERRAIN PULL UP, TERRAIN TERRAIN PULL UP.´
* * *
Peter came home after work and chilled some wine and beer for later when Neal would bring the take out, but at seven, Neal was still not there. He checked his phone again, but there were no messages or voicemails. He was starting to get worried. At eight o´clock he turned on the TV to watch the news.
´Next, Airline CEO crashes with private jet in desolate area. At the moment, there is no news about the passengers.´
Peter stared at the screen. ´What were the odds?´ Peter´s felt like the ground dropped from underneath his feet. His worry was now through the roof. ´OK, he had to keep calm´. He called Neal´s phone first, but it went straight to voicemail.
He called the airline, but they were in shutdown mode, probably to prevent journalists getting in contact with their employees.
Peter called the ARDA hotline and asked to put together a team. Within an hour four volunteers, El, Bob, John and himself with their dogs reported at the crisis center of the airline. In the crisis center, maps were laid out and people were plotting flight routes on the maps.
“What do we know?” Peter asked the crisis leader.
“Captain Caffrey gave coordinates during their descent up to the very end, so the search field is limited as we have a fairly good idea where they went down. We will airlift you and your dogs to the last coordinates we have. Be warned, it is a desolate area.”
Peter and the other rescue workers checked their gear, water and food supplies and walked to the helicopter.
* * *
Neal woke up because of the cold. He had a splitting headache, but when he tried to open his eyes, the world tilted and swirled, and all Neal could do was vomit. Luckily he was hanging on his side and he didn´t vomited on himself.
He was still strapped in his seat, and he saw the inside of the cockpit, but when he managed to turn his head to the right, there was nothing but open sky.
Neal´s breath hitched, his co-pilot was gone. He tried to take stock of his injuries as he felt blood dripping from his head, one eye was swollen shut and he felt a fierce pain in his right leg. Come to think of it, he hurt everywhere. He needed to get out of his seat. It was cold and he was only dressed in his uniform shirt, his jacket was in one of the lockers. He could see his breath forming little puffs. But he didn´t shiver, so he was glad that he wasn´t too cold.
Neal didn´t realize that he had already severe hypothermia. He tried to open his seatbelt but it wouldn´t open. He was so damn tired, but also realized that he needed shelter. So with his last strength he pulled the buckle and it opened. He fell to his left to what was left of the cockpit and on impact lost consciousness.
Neal opened his eyes and saw the cockpit wall up close and personal, realizing that he was resting on his side on what was left of the compartment. He tried to get up, but he was stiff and his leg hurt and he could feel blood on his face. He finally made it to his feet and staggered into the woods in search of the rest of the plane. He wanted to call out but there was only a croak coming out of his mouth. He was cold and tired and needed to find a place to rest and … he just keeled over and welcomed the darkness.
* * *
When the rescue workers arrived at the side, the devastation was horrendous. The plane was ripped apart. They immediately could confirm two death bodies; they were still strapped in their seats. But the cockpit was gone with apart of the fuselage, and no sign of the pilots. It was hard to think rationally and make a plan, but they agreed on spreading out each in a different direction.
* * *
Neal opened his eyes and looked around disoriented. ´Why was he in the woods?´ He tried to get up and after a few attempts he got to his feet and started walking.
Suddenly he stopped. There was a part of a cockpit in front of him. There had been a crash. He staggered towards the wreckage and there was no one in the cockpit but then he saw a body in a seat. He stumbled over and checked the person. There was a faint pulse but he was unconscious.
If only his head would stop hurting so much, he almost couldn´t think. He looked around and noticed a red cross on one of the lockers, so he staggered over and opening the locker, finding a first aid kit and some blankets.
He placed them over the man and tried to rouse him, but he was feeling fainter by the minute and finally had to sit down. He was hot and dizzy. ´Why would he by dizzy? What had happened?´ He looked around and found a bottle of water and drank some, but he only managed to make himself nauseous and heaved everything back.
He felt exposed and knew he had to do something about that. He looked at the man and instinctively knew he had to keep him warm, so he stumbled around and put all the fabric he could find on the emergency blankets. When he was done, he was hot and took off his shirt and tie. ´What was he doing here? Oh yeah, he needed to find shelter´, so he stumbled to his feet and went looking for one.
He found some trees that had fallen down and crawled underneath them and fell asleep.
* * *
Peter had walked with Satchmo in the northern direction. They were still on the trail, because now and then they would find debris. Darkness had set in and Peter had to walk on compass, the headlight he was wearing gave him about a hundred feet light range and it would last sixteen hours, so he was OK, continuing in the dark.
When the debris got bigger, Peter shouted “Neal, NEAL!”
Satchmo got more anxious, so Peter picked up the pace. He reported to the crisis leader that he thought he was on the right track and gave his coordinates. Satchmo started barking, which meant that someone was still alive, as Satchmo was a trained SAR dog, he would search for living victims, in contrast to a cadaver dog.
Suddenly, the cockpit came into Peter´s field of vision. He reported his findings and quickly walked over to the victim that was sitting in his chair, pilled with clots, blankets and other stuff. Peter looked around and saw a lot of blood, so someone was hurt and by the look of it, badly.
Again, Peter reported to the crisis center, one confirmed living victim and one assumed. He checked the man over and he was definitely alive, the hypothermia was not too bad. So that made finding the two pilots his next priority. He called Satchmo over and gave a scent article, Neal´s sleeping T-shirt, which he had brought with him. Within minutes Satchmo was happily barking and Peter had to look twice to find Neal. He was sort of buried under a fallen tree. He had taken of his shirt and socks. He had managed to squeeze himself in what seemed a tiny space under the tree.
He was unconscious and his heart rate and breathing almost undetectable. Peter could only reach one conclusion, Neal was suffering from severe hypothermia. He knew that Neal could only survive if they could warm him up internally. But for the moment he placed an emergency blanket on the exposed parts of Neal. He then told Satchmo to lay next to Neal so he wouldn´t lose anymore body heat than he already had.
Peter could already hear a helicopter coming closer, so help was on its way. Once the rescue workers touched down, everything went quickly, the other man was loaded in the helicopter and was airlifted to the nearest hospital, while paramedics and Peter tried to extract Neal from is hiding place without jostling him too much. The paramedics were surprised that Neal had sort of dug himself under the tree, but Peter explained that it was typical hide and die syndrome. Neal probably hadn´t done it on purpose. Hell, he probably wasn´t even lucid when he had done it. It hurt Peter to think of Neal in such a fragile state.
They had to extract Neal without jarring him too much, so they first removed the tree log and then carefully lifted Neal on top of a gurney, curled into himself as he was. Somewhere during the extraction, Neal had regained consciousness, he had opened his eyes, but he wasn´t really tracking what was happening. He wasn´t responsive and his eyes stared into nothing.
Peter gently tried to get Neal to come back into awareness and his voice must have triggered something, because he started slurring words, but nothing coherent.
“Pter”, it was barely audible. Suddenly, Peter had to withhold all his tears and remind himself that he was a rescue worker and not a friend of Neal, hey had to get Neal to safety first.
Once they had Neal on the gurney, the paramedics started warmed IV´s and looked for injuries. Neal had several deep lacerations, the most troublesome was the one on the side of his head. Before Peter had time to realize what was going on, they had reached the helicopter that was going to medevac Neal to the nearest trauma center.
Peter wanted to go with him, but knew it was impossible, as he had to tend to Satchmo, so he settle with checking over his dog to make sure he hadn´t injured himself walking through the wreckage and the debris.
“Good boy, Satchmo, you found Neal.” Peter smiled as Satchmo would be able to pick up on his anxiety. He grabbed a dog snack from of the bag on his belt and fed it to Satchmo. Hopefully the doctors would do a swell a job as Satchmo had. Peter knew from experience that hypothermia victims could go either way.
An hour later, all rescue personnel was transported from the crash site and the investigators and coroners started their work.
Peter left Satchmo with Elizabeth, he trusted her to take care of the dog while he would go to the hospital. As Neal had been in critical condition, he needed a level 1 trauma center, the closest being Strong Memorial Hospital in Rochester.
When Peter arrived at the hospital, he was informed that Neal was in surgery. They were trying to warm him internally by putting him on bypass. The nurse told Peter to get some rest as Neal wasn´t going anywhere, anytime soon. He unwaveringly told her he would wait in the waiting room.
After three hours and six cups of awful coffee late, the nurse took pity on him and told him she would take him to see Neal, but just for a couple of minutes. Peter could have kissed her, but refrained himself. He followed her into one of the trauma rooms and stopped abruptly at the threshold.
Neal was so pale, that he was almost translucent. They had placed him on a ventilator and he was placed under heating blankets. Peter had seen his fair share of traumas, but never to someone he cared for, hell, loved.
He gently touched Neal´s hand under the blanket and then was told he had to step out again. They were taking care of Neal.
And that was the moment Neal chose to go into cardiac arrest. A medical team scrambled in and started working on Neal. Peter was pulled out of the room. He paced the waiting room for the next two hours, before a nurse came out to tell him Neal was doing OK under the circumstances.
During the morning shift, a nurse woke Peter who had fallen asleep in the waiting room, and told him that they had placed Neal into the critical care unit. They had his body temperature up and had set, stitched and operated on everything they could and now they needed to wait when Neal would wake up.
Peter asked if he could see Neal and he was allowed in to see for himself that Neal was still alive. Peter´s heart dropped when he entered the room. Neal looked even worse than a couple of hours ago. They had shaven a part of his head to sew the deep laceration to the side of his head. His arm was in a cast and his leg in traction. What wasn´t in a cast or in bandages, was covered with bruises and scrapes. It was eerie to see Neal´s chest move because of the ventilator. There were numerous tubes going in and out of Neal. And he was so still, it stood in stark contrast with the Neal had he learned to know, who was always full of life and moving around.
The nurse gently touched Peter to get him out of his thoughts. “You should talk to him, he will probably hear you, even if he is not able to respond.”
Peter gingerly sat down next to him and placed his hand on Neal´s hand, he felt so cold. When the nurse left, after she checked his vitals, Peter placed a kiss on Neal´s forehead.
* * *
It took Neal two days to show signs of consciousness. Neal wasn´t awake but he grimaced when he was in pain. Sometimes he reacted distressed but would calm down when Peter spoke or touched him. That last response ensured that Peter was allowed to stay in his room. The nurses even brought in a cot for Peter.
That night Neal was particularly distressed, he tossed in his bed and several times he tried to pull out IV´s or the ventilator. The nurses and Peter had prevented it up till now, but the nurses decided that it was for the best to limit Neal´s movements by using soft wrist restrains, before he hurt himself. The medical staff didn´t want to up Neal´s sedation in the hope that he would wake and they could assess his head injury.
Peter held Neal´s hand and gently placed a hand on his chest. Neal´s heart rate slowed down and he finally settled down all together.
It was somewhere in the early morning when Neal started to cough. Peter pushed the nurse call button, and an orderly rushed in.
“It´s OK, he is trying to breathe over the ventilator, he is probably rousing.”
“Neal, can you open your eyes? Neal, Peter here tells me you have the bluest eyes. Can you show them for me?” The nurse cajoled.
Peter could see that Neal was listening to the voice, so he joined in. “Come on Neal, open them for us.”
But Neal didn´t respond, so the nurse told Peter that he would wake up when he was ready.
The rest of the day existed out of checkups, IV bag changes and more medical stuff. Peter napped on and off during the day, as he almost didn´t sleep last night. Later in the afternoon, Peter woke, he didn´t know what had stirred him, so he looked around and out of habit, he looked over to the monitors and noticed that Neal´s heart rate had increased. Peter only then looked at Neal and his heart jumped. Neal had his eyes open.
“Neal, can you hear me?” Peter pushed the nurse call button and jumped up.
Neal looked fearful when he realized he couldn´t breathe, luckily the nurse stepped in and attracted Neal´s attention and explained what was going on. Neal calmed down but not enough, so Peter tried talking to him. Neal´s eyes were glued to Peter ´s face and Peter pressed a kiss to Neal´s cheek. That and the sedation the nurse pushed helped Neal relax. He wasn´t completely knocked out, but enough not to care.
After a couple of hours, the doctors were discussing taking Neal of the ventilator.
* * *
The next morning, Neal woke Peter by trying to say his name, it was nothing more than a croak, but it sounded like the voice of an angel to Peter.
“Wh´t h´ed?” Neal whispered.
“Let me first get you some ice chips, and lip balm for your chapped lips.”
He fed Neal some ice chips while slowly telling Neal that he was in a plane crash. Peter kept it all in general terms, not revealing details.
Neal couldn´t remember the accident and the doctors had instructed Peter does not elaborate, at least for the time being. He didn´t need to lie, but he also needed to let Neal get his memory back in his own tempo.
* * *
Neal was released from the hospital ten days later. As his leg was badly broken, he needed to stay off his feet, until they could operate again, so Peter had suggested that Neal would stay at his place as there were lesser stairs to conquer. And that way, Peter could take care of Neal. Neal didn´t want to impose on Peter but he also knew that he needed help, so he reluctantly agreed.
Epilogue.
Eight months later, Neal was still working with physical therapists to get rid of the weakness in his left hand. He started flying again two weeks ago, but the left handed weakness would be a problem in passing the FAA physicals. Neal had been working hard at his recovery ever since he was released from the hospital as he was determined to fly again.
It turned out that the man Neal saved was Walter Tristan. He had been informed that he owed his life to his pilot. Walter had visited Neal on several occasions and made sure that Neal had the best physical therapists. He had also promised Neal a job as his own private pilot or any other job Neal wished for in the company.
But as Neal lived to be a pilot, he was determined to do anything to get back in that left seat of a plane.
Neal and Peter´s relationship had deepened during the highs and lows of his recovery. And once Neal was physical well enough to move back to his apartment, Peter had asked him to stay.
And he did.